


Because Fuck You. That's Why

by let_it_be_extraordinary



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: A Good Officer Universe, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Australia, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Suicide Attempt, a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 06:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7746793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_it_be_extraordinary/pseuds/let_it_be_extraordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Gavroche glances down the grimy red steps to his right and sees a man on the lower level standing ramrod straight and staring out to sea.<br/>It’s a police officer.<br/>It’s Inspector Javert.<br/>He would know that coat and the back of that arrogant head anywhere."</p>
<p>In which Gavroche was the one that stopped Javert from jumping.<br/>A scene from hoc_voluerunt's A Good Officer from Gavroche's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because Fuck You. That's Why

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hoc_voluerunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoc_voluerunt/gifts), [spacegandalf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegandalf/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Good Officer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326394) by [hoc_voluerunt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoc_voluerunt/pseuds/hoc_voluerunt). 



The phone screen lights up as he sprints towards Circular Quay wharf.

_23:58_

_Wednesday, 6 May_

Two minutes until the last ferry leaves and no missed calls on a school night. Unsurprising.

He gets caught behind a group of people and thinks that he’ll probably even make it to ferry in time if _this group of fucking annoying anuses move out of the fucking way._ If he doesn’t though, there’s always the train. But that’s effort.

Gavroche runs across the empty road and under the railway tracks where brightly lit storefronts tell him they’re closed. He can see the ferry, illuminated dimly by the gritty fluorescent lights, waiting patiently at Wharf 4 for 12:00 to tick over.

_Mosman Bay_

_1 minute(s) ‘til departure_

Before anyone could see or stop him, Gavroche vaults over the green turnstile – that cheerily reminds him to _Tap Into Opal Card_ – and skids down the platform. The sleep deprived worker blinks blearily at him as he thunders over the ramp and up the ferry steps.

He makes his way up onto the top level and heads outside to sit on the salt-soaked benches at the back. Gavroche notes faintly, as the ferry pulls away, that it’s cold. He zips up his hoodie and settles back on the bright red seat, looking up at the sky. It’s a cloudless night and, if it wasn’t for all the light pollution staining the horizon a murky purple, the stars would be perfectly visible.

The roar of the engine fills his ears and he wonders if he can get away with having a cigarette. There’s school tomorrow and he really should head home. But Mosman Bay means he can visit Courfeyrac. He likes that idea better.

Gavroche glances down the grimy red steps to his right and sees a man on the lower level standing ramrod straight and staring out to sea.

It’s a police officer.

It’s Inspector Javert.

He would know that coat and the back of that arrogant head anywhere.

Gavroche has been arrested enough times to get to know some of the faces at the Newtown police station. And he’s got to admit, Javert is his favourite face. He’s never known anyone to take their job so seriously. They first met when Gavroche was 13 and caught stealing from an IGA. When all of the other cops had looked at him with kind intention in their voices and disappointment in their eyes, Javert had frowned grumpily and told him he deserved all that he got.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Gavroche calls, getting up from his seat and hopping down the steps. “Inspector Javert, you’re a sight for sore eyes. What brings you to this midnight fine ferry?”

Javert doesn’t react and Gavroche goes to lean on the grimy yellow railing, next to him. Flecks of water from the turbulence below pepper Gavroche’s back. There are only three other people on the ferry, all of them are inside, keeping their heads down, eager to get home without a fuss.

“It’s very rude not to respond, you know. I am a fucking delight.” He says grinning. He looks up at Javert’s face. Oh.

He’s seen that look before.

Hell, he’s worn that look before.

And Gavroche hopes to god he's mistaken because Inspector fucking _Javert_ is going to off himself. On the 12:00am ferry to Mosman Bay.

And Gavroche is mad. Like, real fucking mad. Because _fuck_ , Javert is an adult. _You’re meant to have your life together by then or some shit_. What the fuck is the point of all those school councillors forcing their bullshit down your throat if this is where you end up? All those shitty, well meaning cops and fucking annoying teachers who can’t mind their own business, who tell you over and over, “don’t worry, you wont be a huge fucking disappointment your entire life”. What the _fuck_ _is the point_ if this is where it ends.

“Are you fucking with me? Don’t you dare.” Gavroche’s voice has lost its humour.

Javert still doesn’t react.

“Would you look at me? Don’t you fucking dare.”

Javert does not look.

“Guess what,” He straightens up and slams his foot as hard as he can to break the red slat-bench which splinters with a _crack_ that makes the other passengers look up. The force of it jolts up his leg and through his body. It feels like fire. “Guess what, destruction of public property. You gonna write me up?”

Javert lifts his head but does not look ‘round. Gavroche digs into his pockets. “Oh what’s this, Officer?” He waves a small zip lock bag in front of the policeman’s face, his voice dripping with irony, “ _Drug possession?_ Aren’t you going to arrest me?”

No response.

He throws the bag down and shoves Javert in the side with as much force as he can muster. Javert stumbles. And looks. He's frowning. It’s not his usual frown of disapproval. It’s vacant. It’s shocked.

“That’s fucking assault,” Gavroche shouts. “I just assaulted you! I assaulted a cop! Aren’t you going to arrest me? Aren’t you going to arrest me, _you stupid fucking prick?!”_

Javert’s eyes are empty and Gavroche rips the handcuffs from the man’s belt and presses them desperately into Javert’s unresponsive hand. “Come on! Let’s go! Put me in handcuffs, because guess what, I jumped the barrier at Circular Quay. I’m a fucking delinquent, let’s _go!”_

“Stop this.” Javert says dully. It is the first thing he’s said. And it doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t sound like the unfaltering voice of the law. “Stop this. It is none of your concern.”

“None of my– ? What the fuck kind of piss poor excuse is that? What the _fuck_ kind of choice is that? What the _fuck kind of world is this?_ If Inspector _fucking_ Javert can’t deal, what the fuck kind of chance do the rest of us stand?”

He hits Javert, then. With everything he’s got, he hits him. Puts all the rage years of neglect had taught him to dismiss into it. Javert, who had _seen_ him for what he was: a fuck up. Who had never failed – in that way every one else did – to play the part he was supposed to. Your teachers were supposed to care, your mother was supposed to love you and a _policeman_ was _supposed to arrest you._

Gavroche hits him again. And he's met with Javert's raised hands. And even though Gavroche couldn't actually hurt him, it feels like a surrender.

So he stands there. Relenting. Breathing heavy. Staring at the one cop he thought he understood.

Javert looks away.

 

 

The engines cut off abruptly. The spray of seawater stops. The ferry wades slowly into the wharf. _Okay, damage control_ , he thinks. And Gavroche pulls out his phone.

“Come on Inspector. This is our stop.”

Before they turn to go, the pair of them bend down and pick up their discarded belongings – the hand cuffs and the pot.

Walking just behind Inspector Javert toward the ferry exit, Gavroche’s eyes flick to the gun holster on his hip. _Is that safe?_  Slowly, Gavroche goes to pickpocket his gun but Javert flinches away at the touch, and so he leaves it.

This is so surreal. Something inflexible in their lives has shattered. He doesn’t know if that's what he wants.

He selects Cosette’s number and puts the phone to his ear. “Hey, sorry. Do you think your dad could come pick up Javert from Cremorne Point Wharf? Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Hello Jean, Inspector Javert needs a ride home. Cremorne Point Wharf. I’ll explain when you get here. Thanks. Bye.”

The streetlight directly above them is out when they reach street level. Gavroche stares at Javert. He is diminished in the dark. Gavroche cant bear it. He turns away and sits on a garden wall. Javert stands next to him.

 

“Why?” Gavroche asks after a while.

“I was wrong and always have been.”

That means nothing and Gavroche doesn’t press for context. They do not speak again.

 

Eventually, a taxi pulls over and Jean steps out, looking around in panic. Gavroche jumps up and runs over, skidding a bit when he stops.

“He was going to kill himself.” He explains in a low murmur. “Dunno why.”

Jean hurries over to Javert and Gavroche hangs back, watches Javert reject Jean’s hug and avoid eye contact.

Gavroche decides to leave them to it. None of his business anyway.

He is a street away when his phone buzzes a message in his pocket.

_01:11_

_Thursday, 7 May_

_Eponine [poop emoji] [dancing emoji] (now)_

_gav! cosette called me_

_you home yet? it’s 1am, you’ve got school tomorrow_

_Thanks mother I know_

_yea fuck off i’m your sister_

_where are you? i’ll come pick you up_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written when hoc_voluerunt was in the middle of writing A Good Officer and trying to figure out why Javert doesnt jump. Who stops him? We knew it couldn't be Jean, if only because that would involve him heroically jumping into the harbour and swimming after the ferry, little-mermaid-style. 
> 
> And so I wrote this to explore the idea that it was Gav. 
> 
> It means a lot to me that this ended up significantly shaping the final version of this scene. I'm blessed to have been so involved in such a great piece of fic.


End file.
